August 25, 2025 • 48 mins
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Episode Transcript
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(00:00):
Hey, what's up guys and welcome back to another 4 Chan stories
video. I found a few more 4 Chan
stories to cover, so here's another installment in the
series. You guys seem to love this
series, so I'm going to keep making these as long as I can
keep finding scary 4 Chan Stories.
And as long as you guys keep watching, I appreciate you
stopping by. It means the world.
And please like the video and subscribe to the channel.
It helps more than you know. And all right, sit back, relax
(00:22):
and grab a snack, get hydrated and get ready to listen to some
paranormal 4 Chan stories. Today's stories are ghostly.
Weird paranormal. You'll like them.
Stick around and without furtherado, let's get into some
paranormal four chance stories. This is a story about.
Something that happened to me a few years back.
(00:45):
I haven't told many people, and those who I did tell dismissed
me out of hand. So now I come to you, the
Internet. Sure, most of the people who
read this account won't believe me, but I still cling to the
hope that someone out there willtake me seriously.
Maybe someone has a similar experience.
Anyway, that's enough rambling. Here's my story.
(01:05):
And before we get into his insane story, I'd like to thank
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(02:32):
Click the link below and start protecting your online life
today. And now back into this insane 4
Chan story. I grew up in a small town in
Rest, Gooch County, New Brunswick.
For those of you who don't know,the area is a cool mountainous
region of Canada known for its beautiful forests and rivers,
and it lives up to its reputation for natural beauty.
The rolling hills, golden shoresand lush woods made it a
(02:55):
pleasure to explore in the summer.
However, being fairly far north,it cools down quite a bit by
early autumn, which is when the events I'm about to describe
took place. As I said, I grew up in a small
friendly town and we didn't havemuch in the way of haunted
houses or urban legends. But one town over, a few miles
down the road there was an old Victorian era mansion that was
(03:16):
said to be haunted by the spiritof a woman.
I'd always heard the story growing up, but by the time I
was about 12, I'd stopped believing in ghosts and other
such nonsense. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I should explain the legend as it was told.
In our area, the spear was knownto local kids as Old Nan or the
Shrieking Woman. Some people who thought it was
(03:36):
all bullshit would dismissively call her Screaming Granny while
shaking their heads at the foolish people who believed in
her. Now, the details of the story
vary dependently on who you ask,but here's the most common
version. During the 1800s there was a
local outbreak of pneumonia. 1 winter.
There were some other sicknesseslike colds and flus going as
well. It was a cold snow year and
(03:58):
everyone spent their days huddled inside.
Perfect conditions for a diseaseto spread.
Coupled out with the poor hygiene and primitive medicine
of the time and it's no wonder that people started getting
sick. The doctor in town, and yes
there was only one, was extremely busy treating the sick
and trying to slow the spread ofthe.
Disease. He went up to a large house on
the outskirts of town, trekking through the snow and icy winds
(04:19):
to check on the family that lived there.
Now, the history of this family was tragic enough already.
The man who owned the house had died several years earlier of an
unknown medical condition. His wife, distraught at losing
her beloved so suddenly, had runaway to America in the hopes of
starting a new life, leaving herthree young children in the care
of her mother. The last anyone heard of her,
(04:40):
she was drunk, living in the slums of some American city, so
no one can agree which city it was.
I should stress that the detailsof this tale are hard to verify,
and that I'm merely explaining the story as I heard it growing
up. Anyway, by the time this
outbreak of pneumonia hits, the three kids were in the care of
their grandmother, a kindly old woman who tried her best to hold
what was left of her family together.
(05:01):
When the local doctor made his way up to the house, which was
outside of the main settlement, he was relieved to find no signs
of disease in the family. He explained that due to the
high rates of sickness in town and the difficulty of journeying
to the outline house and such inclement weather, he wouldn't
be back for at least a week. He was satisfied that the
inhabitants of the house were healthy and as long as they
stayed home, they couldn't contract any disease.
(05:23):
Of course, the doctor had neglected to consider that he
might have carried the pathogensfrom his patients in town up to
his family. This turned out to be the case,
for even though the doctor had not fallen I'll himself, he must
have been carrying some sort of bacteria or virus when he
visited the family on that cold,bleak day.
He spent the next week or so working almost without rest to
treat the ill and dine in the town, and during that week it
(05:45):
snowed every day. It was one of the hardest
winters on record, but on the doctor kept his word and as soon
as he could he made his way backup to the old house outside of
town where the grandmother and three children lived.
Apparently it took him 4 hours just to walk through the snow
that lay thick upon the road, though at least the Blizzard had
finally stopped. When the doctor arrived, he
(06:06):
knocked on the door. He received no response, so he
knocked again, calling out to the old woman.
Again there was no answer, so helet himself in.
I don't know if the door was locked or not, but he got in
somehow. And what a terrible sight he
found. He first walked through the
kitchen, seeing utensils and oldfood strewn about haphazardly.
(06:27):
The furniture was in disarray. Now very concerned, he made his
way into the dining room and gasped in horror.
There, in her favorite rocker sat the kindly old grandmother.
But she was a hideous mockery ofher former self, covered in
blisters and cysts, with her skin in a pale Gray color.
Her eyes were bulged and glassy,and her nostrils were flared.
(06:48):
Perhaps most disturbing however,was her mouth.
Her lower jaw hung open at an impossible angle.
Her few remaining teeth, yellowed and worn with age,
jutted out of her now bluish andshriveled gums at odd angles.
The doctor felt her hand. She was frozen.
She had obviously become very ill and passed away, and with no
(07:08):
one to tend the fire, the house had become frigid, freezing her
disease riddled corpse. The doctor got up and ran up the
stairs, screaming for the children.
He burst into the nursery to find 2 bluish, unmoving forms.
He began to weep as he tried hopelessly to resuscitate one of
the children, but was surprised and relieved to find out that he
actually began to stir. The child was frost bent and
(07:30):
ill, but still clinging to life.His sister was less fortunate.
She had frozen almost as solidlyas her grandmother.
The third child was missing. It is presumed that he tried to
go get help in the Blizzard and froze to death on the way,
though since the body was never recovered, no one could be sure.
His surviving child was delirious and cannot remember
where his brother had gone. This one fortunate boy was
(07:52):
nerves back to health and eventually he was adopted by the
Doctor Who felt immense guilt athaving carried the fatal disease
to the small family. The old house was never lived in
again. Anyway, that's the story as it
was told to me in my childhood, and it persisted this day.
But I have yet to touch upon my own experience with Old Nan.
(08:13):
As I mentioned earlier, I stopped believing in ghosts,
including this one, by the time I was about 12.
But later in my teen years, I developed a fascination with the
occult and paranormal. I still didn't really believe in
any of it, but like minding people, I enjoyed being scared.
I love the tingling in my spine when I heard a good Horror
Story. Unfortunately, none of my
(08:33):
friends shared my interest. You have to understand that back
then, believing in fairy tales was a sign of weakness after a
certain age. And though my town was a pretty
friendly place overall, some of the young punks would mock or
beat up people. But they didn't like my ghost
hunting hobby and collection of horror stories.
Made me a bit of an outcast. But I guess there are assholes
everywhere, people who will punish those who are different.
(08:56):
I didn't so much mind the teasing, but the fact that no
one would come along when I wentto check out haunted locations
was discouraging. Nevertheless, when I was 16, I
decided to go by bus the nearby town where the supposedly
haunted house was. I know I'm repeating myself, but
I must stress that at heart, I didn't believe in ghosts.
(09:17):
I've always been a skeptic, but I did enjoy scouting out creepy
abandoned locations and a part of me always wanted to find
evidence of the supernatural. I guess these days people call
it urban exploration. It was a blend of that in half
hearted ghost hunting. Anyway, this would be my first
expedition outside of my immediate area.
After half an hour, the bus arrived and I got out.
(09:40):
I didn't bother asking for any directions.
I knew the name of the street and the house was on.
Since I'd heard the story 100 times, It was at the end of
Birchwood Lane. Besides, I didn't feel like
embarrassing myself by asking anyone where the town's haunted
house was. After wandering on the core of
the town, what you'd call downtown, where the place not so
small and sparsely populated, I saw a street sign marked
(10:03):
Birchwood Lane. Following it, I made my way
through a few blocks of modern houses, then some older
buildings, and eventually the town thinned out entirely and I
found myself walking into the woods.
At the edge of the woods with the was the road, which had been
paved up to this point, gave wayto a gravel trail.
I sighed and press onward. I brought a flashlight with me,
(10:25):
but as the sun had not quite gone down, I didn't need it yet.
As I continued. The path got more and more
uneven, and the sinking sun was increasingly thick.
Foliage above me shrouded the narrow trail in darkness.
Before I got the light out, however, the trees thinned out
again and I saw before me a large, dilapidated 2 story
house. By this time, the day was
(10:46):
nothing more than a fading orange glow on the horizon, and
the mansion was basically a silhouette.
I'll admit I was a bit apprehensive at this point, but
it was far too late to turn back.
I walked across the overgrown lawn, which was covered not only
in tall grass, but also shrubs and a few young trees.
As I got closer to the house, I could see it more clearly.
(11:07):
There was a single door hanging from its hinges in the middle of
the facade. The remains of what was once a
front porch lay rotting beneath it.
Above the door, a small awning bent dangerously downward,
looking as if it could give way at any moment.
Only one of the pillars designedto support it still.
Stood the exterior of the house.Barely.
Had any paint left on it, and what little still remained was
(11:29):
chipped and cracked. Most of the windows were
shattered. The only one had been boarded
up. The house looked old, to be
sure, though it didn't look likehe'd been abandoned for 200
years. If that had been the case, it
probably wouldn't have been remained standing so intact.
I reasoned that someone must have kept the building in shape
for a while after the old woman had died, and only fell into
disrepair sometime afterward. As I came to the door and
(11:52):
climbed up over the remains of the front porch, I felt a chill
run down my spine. I felt fear before, but this was
different. It was more than fear.
It was a feeling of being unwelcome, of not belonging.
I dismissed it as paranoia and gave the battered wooden door a
push. It was partially open already,
(12:14):
but the wood of the door frame was warped for it to be swing
freely. I pushed it again, harder and
heard a loud crack as the rustedhinges broke apart.
The whole door lurched and then fell outwards.
I had to jump out of the way as it nearly fell on me.
I dusted myself off and clambered inside.
The sunlight was now gone entirely and I was extremely
(12:35):
wary of tripping over old furniture or holes in the floor.
I switched on my flashlight and swept the beam over my
surroundings. I was in some sort of large
hallway that branched off in several directions.
At the end was a staircase. I walked along the corridor and
looked into each adjacent room as I went.
It was hard to tell what any of these.
Rooms are supposed. To be each was just a mess of
(12:56):
exposed wooden beams, old trash,and pieces of the walls falling
onto the floors in the pervasivesmell of mildew.
A few books, ruined beyond recognition, lay upon a shelf in
one room. There were several broken jars
on the floor. I made my way slowly to the
staircase and began to climb it.I was nervous as the stairs were
old and rotted and creaked loudly under my weight.
(13:19):
Carefully, I got up to the top and looked around.
The 2nd floor was much like the first, except that it was even
more uneven. This did little to comfort me as
I knew that the floor could giveway under my feet and send me
toppling down 9 feet to the lower floor and a pile of
debris. But what can I say, I was a
dumb, fearless kid. To me, giving up and going home
seemed worse than risking my ownneck.
(13:39):
It's funny how teens think sometimes.
As I explored, I came upon a bathroom and it looked so dated.
That may sound weird, especiallysince the whole house was pretty
ancient, but I'd just seen the old fashioned pipes.
The archaic toilets in the bathtub on little ornate legs
just seemed so quaint. I was a bit confused when I
looked into the bathtub and found dark reddish stains.
(14:00):
While the first thing that popped into my head was the
phrase bloodbath, I laughed whenI realized that they were
probably just rust stains. The next room I entered was
truly unnerving. I recognized it almost
immediately as the nursery from the story.
There were two small beds in a small cot.
For some reason the child size bed were made-up with moldy moth
eaten blankets tucked neatly allaround them and turned down
(14:21):
partly at the top. I guess the last caretaker of
the house and just left them like that.
But it seemed so eerie to me. It was almost as if someone had
just prepared the beds for the kids a few hours ago.
The cop, by contrast, was completely bare.
Now, if this story is making me sound brave so far, please
realize that I really wasn't. I'll admit that I was terrified.
(14:42):
The feeling of being unwanted hadn't left me.
If anything, that had grown as Iexplored the house.
As I got further from the door, my heart began pounding harder
and harder. But as I said, I was determined
not to be a chicken out and leave.
I steady myself and fought the urge to run.
In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have.
There wasn't much more of an interest upstairs as the other
(15:04):
bedrooms were pretty much empty.The furniture had mostly been
removed long ago, and I spent about another 20 minutes
upstairs before heading back to the creaky old staircase and
carefully making my way back down.
I realized that I hadn't yet seen all the rooms on the ground
floor, as I have been eager to look for the nursery upstairs.
I really felt like I needed to leave, but that stubborn part of
my mind stopped me. I made my way through a few
(15:27):
small, nondescript chambers without finding much.
But then, in one of the last unexplored rooms, I saw her
look. This is still hard for me to
think about, much less type out.The memory is so vivid.
I spent the last six years trying to forget what I saw that
night, and now I'm recalling it and the image hasn't faded at
(15:49):
all from my mind. Fuck.
All right, I'll do my best. I came around a corner into a
new room, and as my flashlight beam swept across the wall, I
saw her face. The dead grandmother's face.
I swear to you it was only therefor a split second, but it was
so clear I know I didn't imagineit.
(16:10):
Her skin was molted Gray, blackened in some patches.
Wrinkles and cracks covered every inch of exposed flesh.
Her eyes bulged out, but they were pure white, as if covered
in a thin film. Her lower jaw hung slack, but
not in a way I'd ever seen before.
It was as if her jaw was dislocated or outright broken.
(16:33):
A few small, jagged teeth sat around her gaming ma and a
swollen tongue was visible between them.
Her white hair clung to her scalp and patches matted and
stained. She wore an expression that I
can only describe as desperation, almost as if she
was pleading for someone or something to save her from her
awful fate. And I really only got a good
(16:54):
look at her face. But I also glimpsed her upper
body, and while I can't be sure,I think she was clutching
something in her wisened hands. A bundle.
It was about the size of a smallchild.
As soon as I saw her, I screamed.
I screamed louder than I ever had before or since, come to
think of it. You know that feeling of pure,
(17:14):
absolute, all-encompassing terror?
Fear so powerful that it numbs you while at the same time
making you hyper aware of everything around you?
Some of you will know what I'm talking about.
I dropped my flashlight and ran.I ran through the house, now
completely dark without my flashlight.
I tripped and hit a couple of door frames, but remarkably, I
seem to remember the way out. Even in my state of total panic,
(17:37):
because I was outside in about 10 seconds.
I just kept on running, now withthe moonlight to aid me.
I'm not sure exactly when I stopped screaming, but by the
time I saw the outskirts of the town a little while later, I was
merely sobbing. I ran to the first house that
had lights on and pounded it on the door.
A bewildered man opened the doorand I ran inside, nearly
(17:58):
collapsing on the ground from exhaustion after running so far.
My mad dash for town had left mewith more than a few scratches
and bruises. When I calmed down enough to
speak, I told the man I needed to use his phone.
He still didn't really know whatwas going on, but he led me to
the telephone in his kitchen. I'll skip the details.
I got a ride home with my father.
Despite his repeated questions, it took me a few weeks to tell
(18:20):
him what had happened. He was pretty.
Upset that I had broken into an abandoned house and to this day
he doesn't believe me that I really saw Old Nan.
Whatever, I wouldn't have believed it either.
It was months before I could geta full night's sleep again.
And even today I have nightmaresabout that dread, pitiful face
staring out of the darkness at me.
(18:41):
And though she made no sound when I saw her that first night
in my dreams, she screams and wails.
They say that memories of important or traumatic events
are far more vivid than memoriesof mundane events.
I guess that's true. I'll remember that face until
the day I die. I don't blame you if you don't
believe me. But I'm not the only one who's
(19:02):
seen her. There are a handful of other
unlucky people have gone into her house at night.
I heard a rumor that someone even snapped a picture, which is
online somewhere. I don't know about that since I
never searched for it. I never want to see old man
again. So I have a story for you that
(19:24):
you ex people might can explain.Be me 2018 get diagnosed with
diabetes at age 30 because fat starting healthy and go hiking
2019 lost some weight. Wife supports me.
Hiking is our new hobby. Invite friends often to hike as
a new activity. Show them all the good spots.
We discovered this one time in November.
We drink the night before and itgets much later into the night
(19:46):
than we planned. Good times all around.
Next day we are all kind of hungover so we sleep in and
start hiking way too late. It's already getting dark on the
way there. No problem, been there once
before. I'll find the way.
We wanted to hike in this ravine.
It's pretty cool, has a waterfall which is awesome, but
the stone path is slippery, mossy and wet.
It's kind of remote and unknown too, so all around untouched
(20:08):
nature. But we definitely need the torch
lights. In before not a Skinwalker
story, the things that happened are not even that exciting, but
it was kind of unnerving at the time.
So we walked through the forest that leads into the ravine when
a fog raises up and makes it hard to see.
Not spooked yet, it's just really dense fog.
When we go inside the ravine, weadmire the natural formations of
(20:29):
rock, lots of mushrooms and in general, like in the nature, the
fog makes it nice to run pictures.
Too then friend A. Asks if we heard that, confused
glances. No, no one heard anything.
Shrugs it off. Probably some animal.
Some time passes and we make good time getting down to the
deepest point. Then Friend B thought it'd be
funny to start climbing into oneof the small caves where some
(20:51):
kind of wooden box was lane, joking that it might be a drug
stash. While climbing, the idiot drops
his phone, so now he really has to go down there to get it.
We waited around for him to makehis way into the narrow cave,
kind of worried he'd get stuck. The box, Surprise surprise, was
not a drug stash, just an empty box.
He fiddles a. While around in piles of dried
leaves finally finds his phone suddenly says what are those
(21:15):
drums? None of us up here can hear any
drums. I make some minds of Maria jokes
that now the goblins will come eat them drums, drums in the
deep, we can knock it out. I keep quoting because I'm just
that funny. He gets started to insist.
No way not I'm serious, I'm hearing drums.
Friend A now chimes in and confirms that he believes what
he heard earlier sounded like drums too.
(21:37):
Friend B is still calm, just confused, and makes his way back
up, pressing his back into the rock to get out.
The last few minutes we pull himup, all agree that this was a
stupid thing to do. You still hearing drums?
I ask him. Faint.
He replies. Eyebrows are raised like down
there, No, I think. From there he points in the
direction we are heading. Anyways, at this point I'm
(22:00):
thinking that A&B are making this shit up because it's dark
and spooky. Wifey is getting nervous by all
this talk. She doesn't like Spooks at all.
Wants us to stop talking about it.
We continue on our way. 15 minutes or so later.
Goosebumps. Now I can hear the drums.
They sound like they are some way ahead, clear as day, but
they don't sound like any drum I've heard so far.
(22:23):
Hard to describe the sound. Kind of changed pitch.
Now I ask if the others can hearthe drums, Empty looks from
them. Wife gets really pissed.
I tell her not to worry, it's probably some hippie smoking in
a circle. Don't really believe that
myself. It's November and freezing and
she doesn't buy it either. We continue walking.
We still have like an hour of walking ahead before reaching
(22:43):
the halfway point. Finally all of us are hearing
the drums, including wife, who doesn't find this trip enjoyable
at all. Now drums are getting louder,
sounding like they're around in the corner.
Then they stop. Friend A suddenly goes off the
path, going to the spot where the drums seem to come from.
Last suddenly exclaims. What the fuck?
(23:04):
We go after him and find a rock.No one around, just a rock.
Confused faces. The distance is kind of correct
to where we heard the drums to the rock is smeared with the
yellow powder. Then we look closer and see what
friend day is on about. It has been carved with all
kinds of shit. No idea what it means.
Pick related. It's the rock.
(23:25):
The rock has a crevice that seems to go all the way down.
Frende thinks that the yellow stuff is sulfur.
Cliche much? We make the pictures and go back
to the trail, Make the rest of the journey without much
talking. All of us kind of nervous.
Get back to the car without any trouble.
No further events whatsoever. Wife is very happy.
Once sitting in the car, we Google the words as soon as we
(23:46):
get home. No results today.
Wife says, remember those drums?That was creepy.
Remember those events and decideto post it on ecstasy if you
have any ideas. Hello all.
Well, I've had a fair amount of real paranormal experiences in
my lifetime and I'd figure I'd post a few here.
(24:07):
Everything from growing up in a haunted house to visiting the
most haunted spot on earth, Pavalgia.
For my first story, I will sharemy experience on the island of
Pavalgia along with my own personal pictures.
This place had a weird impact onme and hence I adopted the name
as my own online persona. Hopefully you all enjoy and
maybe it will even inspire someone to create an effect off
(24:30):
my story. The History Pavalgia is one of
the most haunted places in the world and for good reason.
This small island is the lagoonsof Venice once had its own
government until it was destroyed by war.
It's not part of the sightseeingtour, but you won't be setting
foot on it. Visitors are not permitted.
When the bubonic plague swept across Europe, the number of
(24:50):
dead and dying in the streets became unbearable.
In Venice, the solution came in the form of pavalgia.
Bodies were hauled to the islandand dumped into large body pits,
somewhat burned, but it became worse.
The living victims were taken tothe island and disposed into
pits of rotting corpses, left todie or burned as they painfully
died of the Black Plague. It is said that part of the
(25:12):
islands core consists of a layerof human remains and that often
fishermen avoid the area becausethey may pull up body parts.
The war and the plague would seem sufficient because for
ghosts to inhabit this horrible island, and they reportedly did,
but a new population was soon tobe added.
A hospital was built on the island and still stands today,
although it is no longer in use.The patients often reported
(25:34):
seeing people in their rooms andhearing whispers.
One particularly cruel Dr. watched his patients succumb to
the madness and took an interestin their delusions.
He began to experiment with the human mind, physically with his
studies of the brain itself, andmentally as he sent the patients
to an observation building wherethey would be subjected to
further torture. The complex also contains a
(25:55):
haunted oven room and a morgue. Eventually, the doctors began to
see the spirits himself and jumped or was thrown from the
bell tower to his death. Rumor has it he is now bricked
up in that same tower. Some say you can still hear the
bell ringing late at night. You would think skeptics and
believers alike would learn their lesson about Pavelgia.
(26:16):
Whether or not it is a place of evil is unknown, but it
certainly does have a history oftragedy.
And yet it is to be used again. If you search hard enough, you
will find plans for an educational center to be
constructed on the island for Taurus.
They want to bring families to the island built on restless
corpses. It's a horror movie waiting to
happen. My tale.
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I have always had an interest inthe paranormal and unexplained
phenomena. It goes back to my youth where I
had the disturbing experience ofbeing haunted from approximately
ages 5 to 16, but that is a different story.
I first heard of this accursed island while I was watching
television. The island immediately caught my
attention as being an interesting story.
(26:57):
After that I didn't research or even think much about it.
A few years later I joined the US Army and my first duty
station was to be in Vincenza, Italy.
Of course I was excited. Not many people that were my age
get to travel to Italy, let alone live there for three
years. After about a year of living in
Italy, I remember the show I hadseen back in the States and I
happened to be living only 20 minutes away from Venice.
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I gathered a few brave souls from my units and told them the
tale of the island and a few more ghost stories that had
happened to me in my lifetime. I sparked their interest in the
mystique of ghostly put phenomena and eventually managed
to convince them to tag along with me on a weekend trip to
Venice. There was five of us set to go,
my girlfriend at the time, Anya,Roger, Rich Spoon, Klein and
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myself. We came equipped with cameras,
watches, cell phones and money. Anya and myself boarded the
train and we're on our way to Venice.
Olivera and the others would meet up with us in Venice at a
later time. When we arrived, Anya gas at the
sheer beauty of the city on water.
We walked out on the train station and wandered a few
blocks over to a quaint little hotel.
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We purchased a room for the weekend and went upstairs to
drop off our luggage. Picture the first building you
see when you exit the train station in Venice.
It was under construction at thetime.
We then set out to explore this marvelous city.
We hopped on the nearest boat bus.
The city streets are water, so the buses there had small Piers
all around the city like our busstops and rode it to the end of
(28:22):
the line. We got off the bus at the end of
the line and walked towards the majestic San Marco Square.
There we gaze up at the beautiful building to see
lifestyles. Marble statues of horses on an
upper balcony. Above the balcony, the statues
of countless Saints peered over the crowds of people below.
We entered the church and saw a breathtaking array of scenes and
images from the Bible adorning the walls in gold.
(28:45):
After walking out of the church,my cell phone began to ring.
It was Oliver. He and the others had arrived in
Venice, so I told them what hotel we were staying at and
agreed to meet them there. After another trip on the bus,
Anya and I met up with a friendsof the hotel.
We stopped at a local trattoria and feasted on a few paninis.
After dinner we hit up a few local clubs and parted the night
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away. The next morning we all awoke
groggy from the night before andheaded out for a quick
breakfast. We then spent the rest of the
day sightseeing until late afternoon.
While we were at dinner I started discussing pavalgia and
everyone got hyped about it and they all wanted to travel out
there right away. Being the investigative person I
am, I decided to interview a fewof the Venice locals and see
(29:29):
what they could tell me about the island.
I quickly found out that the Italians and Americans
approached the paranormal in very different manners.
If an American neighborhood has a haunted house, every teenager
and some adults will head out there at one point or another
for a few cheap thrills. Not the Italians.
If a place is haunted, they stayaway.
The Venice government even went so far as to make the island
(29:51):
forbidden and no one is allowed out there.
The Carabini Italian police evenpatrol the island during the
day, but the second nightfall hits, they leave.
And for good reason. The Valgia is no haunted house.
It is a dark, evil place where hundreds of thousands of people
were tortured, maimed and killedin unimaginably horrible ways.
(30:12):
After attempting to interview several locals, I found barely
anyone who would talk about it and most simply said stay away,
and I interviewed our hotel manager at the front desk.
Excuse me? I said to him.
My friends all stood nearby. The manager quickly turned
towards us and put on his typical salesman smile.
How can I help you? He replied in a thick Italian
accent. I was wondering if you could
(30:33):
tell us anything about the island of Pavalgia.
His expression immediately changed to a scared look.
The hotel maintenance man who was working nearby abruptly
looked up and walked away in an almost frightened manner.
There is plenty of nice things to see in Venice.
The manager said, trying to compose himself.
He nervously pulled out a map ofVenice and started pointing out
majestic churches for us to visit.
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I interrupted him while he was telling me the history of one of
the local churches. We've seen all that already,
replied. We want to go out to Pavalgia
now, there's nothing out there. He said in a very quick, nervous
manner. His smile once again faded and
an almost angry look appeared onhis face.
I know that. I said.
But you should not ask about these things.
He interrupted. He then stormed out of the room
(31:17):
in a nervous and upset manner. I looked at my friends and they
all look shocked as well. That reaction was weird, I
thought to myself. We exited the hotel and
approached several taxi boat drivers who refused to take us
out there. After about an hour of people
refusing to take us there, we had almost given up hope.
But I wasn't about to give up. I approached the sleaziest taxi
(31:39):
driver I could find and asked him to take us out there.
Fortunately, this taxi driver was Russian and obviously had no
knowledge of the local lore and superstitions.
He agreed to take us out there and back for €100.
We excitedly reached into our pockets and chipped in for the
cost. Spore ran over to the local
store and picked up a bottle of wine for the trip out there.
(32:00):
We then excitedly entered the cab, popped up with a Veno and
we're off. After about 1/2 an hour boat
ride, the sky turned from a midnight blue to black.
Nightfall had come. We were so excited about getting
the cab driver to take us that we had not realized how late it
was. Then I stood up in the boat and
pointed in the horizon. There it stood in the distance
(32:20):
and dark island full of trees could be seen poking up Above
the tree line we can see the silhouette of the insane asylums
clock tower where the mad doctorwas pushed to his death by
unseen hands. The island of Pavalgia As we
approached in the in the boat. By this time it was almost
completely dark outside. Below, another picture of the
island and the dreaded bell tower.
(32:42):
The closer we got the more the hearts started to pound.
As we approached the dreaded island, all of us stood there in
silence. The eerie silhouettes of the
building stood up before us. In the distance.
A chill crept down everyone's spines.
Who stood there looking at this place.
The silence was broken by my buddy's voice.
Dude, my cell phone just turned off.
And he wasn't lying. As soon as we got closer to the
(33:03):
island, all of our cell phones turned off.
I'm not talking about having no reception.
I'm honestly saying that everyone's phone is off.
It would not turn back on. It was like we passed through an
invisible energy field because all the phones turned off at the
exact same time. By this time we're almost upon
the island. As we pulled it into a narrow
inlet, we noticed a small set ofstairs that we could use to dock
(33:26):
at and walk up to the island. The boat driver pulled up slowly
to the staircase and shut off the boat's motor.
Now I must say I have had some very scary experiences in my
life and I've been to some very bone chilling haunted places,
but Pavalgia Island definitely had an evil feel to it.
Typically when you go to a haunted house, cemetery,
(33:46):
etcetera you get that feeling that someone or something is
watching you and it feels generally uncomfortable.
Bevelgia had more of a we need to get the hell out of here
right now feel to it. But since we are so determined
to check this place out, we put all those feelings aside and
jumped off the island to explore.
By this time our boat driver, who remind you has no knowledge
(34:07):
or experience with this place, was freaking out beyond control.
He kept telling Hurry. We leave soon, OK?
Towards us. As if being on an incredibly
haunted island in the middle of nowhere isn't enough, we had to
now also worry about this guy taking off on a suddenly.
Remember, none of our cell phones can even turn on at this
point, so I suggested to the rest of our party that one or
(34:28):
all of us stay close to the boatin case this guy tries to leave.
The island was very black. The only light source was the
full moon above us in the occasional flash of one of us
snapping pictures. Three of us had cameras and we
were snapping away. The island was eerily silent.
No birds, no crickets, no animals, nothing.
It was almost surreal. The boat driver had a flow light
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on the front of his boat that hewas frantically shining all over
the buildings. You could tell he was extremely
scared. We walked up to the doorway of
the main building and took a fewpictures.
The flash illuminated a huge room that had debris all over
the floors. We wandered around the front of
the buildings, snapping pictureslike Taurus for about 10
minutes. Somebody suggested that we go
inside the buildings, but the doors and windows had what
(35:12):
looked like a lockdown mechanismon them, so we decided against
it. We continued taking pictures of
the building in the ominous belltower.
And I'm not even going to try todo a fake scream scream, but a
scream happens. Ah, and then the most terrifying
scream I could ever hear. My life Pierce through the
sounds like a knife. All of us stopped dead in our
tracks. It took us a second to
(35:33):
comprehend what we had just heard.
We all looked at each other stunned.
Before we could even talk about what we had just heard, the
entire island erupted in screams.
Our boat driver was freaking outbeyond control.
We all frantically jumped on board for the boat.
The driver could not get the boat started right away and
we're all freaking out. Finally, the engine started and
we quickly pulled away from the island.
(35:54):
The screams are still continuing.
It sounded like they were all around us.
Then as we were pulling away from the island, the bell
started tolling in the distance.This freaked us out even more
because the bell is no longer inthe tower.
It was removed after the island closed down.
Once we got away from the island, mysteriously all of our
cell phones turned back on. We excitedly talked among
ourselves on the boat ride home about what we had just
(36:16):
experienced. The second we got back to our
homes in Vincenza, we rushed to get our photographs developed in
to tell everyone our story. We were taking pictures just to
show off the island to our friends, but we caught something
else in one of the photos. Once I examined the photos, I
noticed that we had captured a ghost on camera.
Not an orb or a reflecting pieceof dust, but the actual
(36:37):
silhouette of a man who was not standing there when we took that
photo. I took the picture to three
different professional photographers and they cannot
explain it. You can see through the guy.
See if you can spot it in the second photo of this blog.
Anyways, after we left the island, some of the people we
went with we're still having weird things happen to them
while they were at home, like something had followed a SPAC.
(36:59):
Some of them just felt uneasy all the time and some were
having insane nightmares and others kept reporting hearing
dripping noises in their houses.When they investigated, there
were no drips or leaks anywhere,and this happened to more than
one person in more than one house on the same night.
Overall, I think Pavalgia goes beyond the realms of haunted and
there's true evil on the island.Too bad we were only there for
(37:21):
about 20 minutes. I would definitely love to go
back but a bit more prepared next time.
We had no flashlights, equipment, etc, only cameras
with us. It is one of my life goals to
get back out there and investigate further.
I have a lot more pictures but Icould not find them this
evening. All right so forgive my
(37:42):
formatting, I don't really post a 4 Chan a whole lot, I usually
just lurk X. But since the holidays I've been
able to hear more stories from my dad so I think you'll might
enjoy. The first couple are from my
grandpa. I'd heard stories about my
grandpa ever since I was a kid. He was my dad's dad and had
experienced a lot in life and this in turn generated some of
the most amazing stories I'd ever heard in my childhood.
(38:04):
After the Korean War, he became a law enforcement officer in
Lubbock, TX in the late 50s, being the first Hispanic to be
employed in the Texas Civil Service System there and then
from 1960 to 1967, he served as a Texas Border Patrol Agent,
becoming one of the first of five Hispanics to be employed by
the agency up to that time. He later worked for the US
(38:26):
Customs Agency Service in the DEA in the 70s.
My dad always told me some amazing stories, and not all of
them fit here and some are not for me to share.
But he also has two that, although did not happen to him,
have been told to my dad, who'd later told them to me in pretty
good detail. So the next two stories take
place between 1960 and 1967. My dad's family was living in
(38:50):
the southwest Texas town of Eagle Pass, which is a border
town that borders the Mexican city of Piedras.
My grandpa was doing Border Patrol work there and in the
nearby border towns that are scattered along the Rio Grande
River. The sand trap.
Now before I get into this firststory, I have to explain what a
sand trap is. It's not necessarily a trap
exactly. There's some spots along the Rio
(39:12):
Grande that are low enough to cross over without much effort.
These areas are patrolled but can't be monitored 24/7,
especially back then, so sometimes immigrants pass
through without detection. In places where the brush wasn't
too thick, they would throw downlayers of sand and smooth it
out. This allowed them to monitor and
count footprints and track who or how many people were crossing
(39:33):
the river and into the US. My grandpa worked the morning
shift and arrived to the stationto supposedly catch up on
paperwork and get some coffee. That's where he found the late
night officer who all referred to as Mr. L at the station back
from his post earlier than he should have.
He was pale and looking very distraught.
Grandpa asked Mr. L what his deal was and was told the
(39:55):
following story. Mr. L had been hearing rumors of
some creepy post out in Del Rio,a town about an hour north of
Eagle Pass Essentially, there was a low point in the river
where immigrants would cross andenter private ranch land.
Multiple BP agents would be sentto check the sand trap there to
see if anything was turning up, but they never got any
footprints. They needed someone out there to
(40:16):
monitor it more closely. However, nobody wanted to stay
after dusk. The area was rumored to be
unsettling and quite possibly haunted.
Mr. L thought that was a crock of shit.
My dad describes Mr. L as a verytall man, shaved head and very
tough. The kind of person that doesn't
take any bullshit. He decided that he would go out
(40:37):
there by himself at night and. Show these other.
Guys that they're just being a bunch of sissies.
He drives to the Del Rio stationand starts getting ready.
A lot of the guys are telling him to not worry about it.
They can just. Check the trap in the morning
for footprints and showed obvious signs of concern.
But of course he brushed it off and was handed a large ring of
keys. The keys were to unlock the
multiple ranch gates in the county as he would be driving
(40:58):
deep into the middle of nowhere and through multiple properties.
He got into service vehicle, made sure he had all the
supplies he needed and took off down the Country Rd. and then
would later turn off to the gateof Ranch Rd.
It took him over an hour of passing through multiple gates
and driving unkempt dirt roads just to get to the spot.
He left in the late afternoon and by the time he arrived at
the post, dusk was just upon him.
(41:21):
He said the spot was loaded withMesquite, Chris Oates and all
sorts of brush. You couldn't walk through the
brush unless you had a Bush hog tractor clear the place out.
There was however, a small warm path leading from the river that
you can get through just barely.This is where the sand trap was
placed since it served as a choke point for any foot
traffic. Of course, the trap has devoid
(41:43):
of any footprints, so he settlesdown and waits for nightfall.
The night was pretty uneventful.The moon was out.
And lit up the area in a dim Ethero light.
The air was still, and despite being out in the middle of
nowhere in Texas, there wasn't many of the usual night sounds
he was accustomed to. He says he would have fallen
asleep, but the lack of sounds kept them on edge.
It made him unnecessarily anxious.
(42:05):
At around 3:00 or 4:00 AM, he was getting the feeling that
maybe this spot wasn't so bad after all and his anxiety was
just from him hearing rumors. Then he heard the faint sound of
footsteps. He put out a cigarette and
tightened his grip on his 357 Magnum sidearm.
The sound of brush being pushed away in footsteps getting
(42:25):
closer. The moon was.
Lower now, and it was very dark,but he could still see the
silhouettes of three men come into view.
They emerge from the brush, but something was off about their
appearance. He thought maybe it was the lack
of light, but their silhouettes were pitch black.
It was dark, but these forms looked like they were darker
than night. Their eyes were glowing, similar
(42:47):
to how a cat's would if he shined a light in their face in
the dark. He called out to them, but they
kept moving, ignoring his commands to freeze.
They walk in single file, slowlyambling along the path.
He points his vehicle spotlight at them and feels his blood run
cold. The forms look like shadows cast
on a wall in a puppet show. He said it looked like someone
(43:09):
was walking in front of his spotlight, but the shadows that
were cast were disembodied and didn't belong to anything.
He stood in awe and fear for probably 45 minutes.
The forms are gone and there wasno longer any sound coming from
the brush. He went down to check the sand
trap and found that it was stillsmooth and it was like nobody
(43:29):
had ever crossed that area. He suddenly felt dreadful and as
though something was watching him.
The feeling wouldn't go away andhe started to feel fearful.
He got in his vehicle and left. He drove straight to Eagle Pass
and since my grandpa came in early, he heard everything from
the now shaken Mr. L. My grandpa didn't have a fun
time as Mr. L didn't bother to lock the numerous ranch gates
(43:50):
behind him. I wish I could say this is the
fun part of the story where my grandpa goes over there to close
it for him and see the spot for himself.
But he had stuff to do and delivered the keys back to the
Del Rio station and let them take care of it.
Mr. L never went back to that area but he's not making fun of
his fellow colleagues stories. Funnily enough not much changed
(44:12):
about him. He wasn't scared of anything and
was a mean guy all around. But whenever Mr. L retold the
story at later times, my dad could tell that it was an event
that really shook him. My grandpa continued to hear
stories about that remote Del Rio post, but over time he heard
less about it as he was given assignments that took him away
from that town. He believes it was haunted and
(44:33):
people said it was an evil place.
And although they never caught anybody in that area in his
seven years as a Border Patrol agent, there surely was
something crossing over. This one is another one of my
grandpa's Border Patrol stories.It's another one that didn't
happen to my grandpa, but was told by his colleague as they
were exchanging stories one morning at the station.
(44:54):
His colleague, who we will call Angus, was another one of those
true Texan no bullshit types. He graduated from Texan ANM
University, was a bona fide cowboy, and I worked as a ranch
hand for years before coming on to the Texas Border Patrol.
He would patrol ranches and other properties near the border
on horseback and would monitor sand traps and look for anything
(45:16):
or anyone suspicious. This one instance took place
near Rio Grande City. He was on a horseback.
In the middle of. Nowhere on a ranch in Stark
County, Texas. The sun was hot and he hadn't
come across anything or anybody for hours.
He was miles away from any surface Rd. much less a County
Road, and he started to get thirsty.
(45:36):
He took a quick break to drink some water and get his horse
hydrated too. He wiped the sweat off his brow
when maybe 500 feet away he saw a figure moving across the
plains at a decent pace. He took a sip out of his canteen
and got his binoculars out. He could see it was an older man
with a cowboy hat riding a horseat a slight trot.
(45:56):
Angus closed his canteen and puthis binoculars back around his
neck. He radioed in the incident and
mounted his horse and took off after the person hoping to
intercept them. He started off with his horse at
a full gallop, kicking up dust behind him.
But Ariel was hilly and he passed a bend and saw that the
rider was now further away than he was before.
Confused but determined, Angus drove his spurs into the side of
(46:19):
his horse to go to into going faster.
They started to gain ground on the other rider.
He disappeared around another bend, but Angus was close
behind. When Angus came around the bend,
he saw that the rider was even further away.
Angus started to get pissed off.Obviously the guy was fucking
with him and he's ready to apprehend him.
He gets his horse to go even faster.
His hat was barely hanging on and everything was shaking and
(46:42):
starting to come loose from their holsters and bags.
He gained on the figure yet again, but after another bend
the figure came even further away.
He had never made his horse go this fast.
It's grunts were harsh and labored.
After each bend the figure got further and further away until
it finally disappeared. For fear of his horse's safety,
(47:02):
he decided to call off the pursuit and radio in that the
suspect had got away. He dismounted and gave his horse
some water. They'd probably travelled about
5 to 10 miles from where they originally spotted the lone
horseback rider. He decided to double back.
He started to notice that the only tracks were his own.
No other tracks but the ones from his horse were found the
whole way back. He told everyone on the McAllen
(47:23):
horseback unit about it and asked them if they ever
experienced anything like it, but not one of them believed
them, said it was just a mirage or he had a heat stroke.
Angus assured them that he knew the signs of a heat stroke and
his limits. He'd been a ranch head for
years, after all. He wouldn't have continued if he
knew he was not well enough to do so.
He let it go for a while, but told my grandpa eventually when
(47:46):
he did some work in Eagle Pass. He never seemed scared about it,
but perplexed. He continued working in that
area of Stark County, but he never experienced anything like
that ever again. You know?
Right guys? That wraps up some paranormal 4
Chan stories. Usually I don't cover paranormal
stories because I don't really like them much, but I really
enjoyed the paranormal stories in this video.
(48:07):
The first one is scary. I really like the last one with
the cowboy kind of theme. I love cowboy stuff and yeah,
super interesting. And don't forget to get your
Cyber Ghosts VPN for $2.03 a month plus four months free.
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Check the description for the link.
Cyber ghost VPN is the way to go.
Link below and thank you so muchfor watching.
I appreciate it. This was Snook and I'll see you
next time. Bye.
Hey, what's up guys and welcome back to another 4 Chan stories
video. I found a few more 4 Chan
stories to cover, so here's another installment in the
series. You guys seem to love this
series, so I'm going to keep making these as long as I can
keep finding scary 4 Chan Stories.
And as long as you guys keep watching, I appreciate you
stopping by. It means the world.
And please like the video and subscribe to the channel.
It helps more than you know. And all right, sit back, relax
(00:22):
and grab a snack, get hydrated and get ready to listen to some
paranormal 4 Chan stories. Today's stories are ghostly.
Weird paranormal. You'll like them.
Stick around and without furtherado, let's get into some
paranormal four chance stories. This is a story about.
Something that happened to me a few years back.
(00:45):
I haven't told many people, and those who I did tell dismissed
me out of hand. So now I come to you, the
Internet. Sure, most of the people who
read this account won't believe me, but I still cling to the
hope that someone out there willtake me seriously.
Maybe someone has a similar experience.
Anyway, that's enough rambling. Here's my story.
(01:05):
And before we get into his insane story, I'd like to thank
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Click the link below and start protecting your online life
today. And now back into this insane 4
Chan story. I grew up in a small town in
Rest, Gooch County, New Brunswick.
For those of you who don't know,the area is a cool mountainous
region of Canada known for its beautiful forests and rivers,
and it lives up to its reputation for natural beauty.
The rolling hills, golden shoresand lush woods made it a
(02:55):
pleasure to explore in the summer.
However, being fairly far north,it cools down quite a bit by
early autumn, which is when the events I'm about to describe
took place. As I said, I grew up in a small
friendly town and we didn't havemuch in the way of haunted
houses or urban legends. But one town over, a few miles
down the road there was an old Victorian era mansion that was
(03:16):
said to be haunted by the spiritof a woman.
I'd always heard the story growing up, but by the time I
was about 12, I'd stopped believing in ghosts and other
such nonsense. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I should explain the legend as it was told.
In our area, the spear was knownto local kids as Old Nan or the
Shrieking Woman. Some people who thought it was
(03:36):
all bullshit would dismissively call her Screaming Granny while
shaking their heads at the foolish people who believed in
her. Now, the details of the story
vary dependently on who you ask,but here's the most common
version. During the 1800s there was a
local outbreak of pneumonia. 1 winter.
There were some other sicknesseslike colds and flus going as
well. It was a cold snow year and
(03:58):
everyone spent their days huddled inside.
Perfect conditions for a diseaseto spread.
Coupled out with the poor hygiene and primitive medicine
of the time and it's no wonder that people started getting
sick. The doctor in town, and yes
there was only one, was extremely busy treating the sick
and trying to slow the spread ofthe.
Disease. He went up to a large house on
the outskirts of town, trekking through the snow and icy winds
(04:19):
to check on the family that lived there.
Now, the history of this family was tragic enough already.
The man who owned the house had died several years earlier of an
unknown medical condition. His wife, distraught at losing
her beloved so suddenly, had runaway to America in the hopes of
starting a new life, leaving herthree young children in the care
of her mother. The last anyone heard of her,
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she was drunk, living in the slums of some American city, so
no one can agree which city it was.
I should stress that the detailsof this tale are hard to verify,
and that I'm merely explaining the story as I heard it growing
up. Anyway, by the time this
outbreak of pneumonia hits, the three kids were in the care of
their grandmother, a kindly old woman who tried her best to hold
what was left of her family together.
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When the local doctor made his way up to the house, which was
outside of the main settlement, he was relieved to find no signs
of disease in the family. He explained that due to the
high rates of sickness in town and the difficulty of journeying
to the outline house and such inclement weather, he wouldn't
be back for at least a week. He was satisfied that the
inhabitants of the house were healthy and as long as they
stayed home, they couldn't contract any disease.
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Of course, the doctor had neglected to consider that he
might have carried the pathogensfrom his patients in town up to
his family. This turned out to be the case,
for even though the doctor had not fallen I'll himself, he must
have been carrying some sort of bacteria or virus when he
visited the family on that cold,bleak day.
He spent the next week or so working almost without rest to
treat the ill and dine in the town, and during that week it
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snowed every day. It was one of the hardest
winters on record, but on the doctor kept his word and as soon
as he could he made his way backup to the old house outside of
town where the grandmother and three children lived.
Apparently it took him 4 hours just to walk through the snow
that lay thick upon the road, though at least the Blizzard had
finally stopped. When the doctor arrived, he
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knocked on the door. He received no response, so he
knocked again, calling out to the old woman.
Again there was no answer, so helet himself in.
I don't know if the door was locked or not, but he got in
somehow. And what a terrible sight he
found. He first walked through the
kitchen, seeing utensils and oldfood strewn about haphazardly.
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The furniture was in disarray. Now very concerned, he made his
way into the dining room and gasped in horror.
There, in her favorite rocker sat the kindly old grandmother.
But she was a hideous mockery ofher former self, covered in
blisters and cysts, with her skin in a pale Gray color.
Her eyes were bulged and glassy,and her nostrils were flared.
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Perhaps most disturbing however,was her mouth.
Her lower jaw hung open at an impossible angle.
Her few remaining teeth, yellowed and worn with age,
jutted out of her now bluish andshriveled gums at odd angles.
The doctor felt her hand. She was frozen.
She had obviously become very ill and passed away, and with no
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one to tend the fire, the house had become frigid, freezing her
disease riddled corpse. The doctor got up and ran up the
stairs, screaming for the children.
He burst into the nursery to find 2 bluish, unmoving forms.
He began to weep as he tried hopelessly to resuscitate one of
the children, but was surprised and relieved to find out that he
actually began to stir. The child was frost bent and
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ill, but still clinging to life.His sister was less fortunate.
She had frozen almost as solidlyas her grandmother.
The third child was missing. It is presumed that he tried to
go get help in the Blizzard and froze to death on the way,
though since the body was never recovered, no one could be sure.
His surviving child was delirious and cannot remember
where his brother had gone. This one fortunate boy was
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nerves back to health and eventually he was adopted by the
Doctor Who felt immense guilt athaving carried the fatal disease
to the small family. The old house was never lived in
again. Anyway, that's the story as it
was told to me in my childhood, and it persisted this day.
But I have yet to touch upon my own experience with Old Nan.
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As I mentioned earlier, I stopped believing in ghosts,
including this one, by the time I was about 12.
But later in my teen years, I developed a fascination with the
occult and paranormal. I still didn't really believe in
any of it, but like minding people, I enjoyed being scared.
I love the tingling in my spine when I heard a good Horror
Story. Unfortunately, none of my
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friends shared my interest. You have to understand that back
then, believing in fairy tales was a sign of weakness after a
certain age. And though my town was a pretty
friendly place overall, some of the young punks would mock or
beat up people. But they didn't like my ghost
hunting hobby and collection of horror stories.
Made me a bit of an outcast. But I guess there are assholes
everywhere, people who will punish those who are different.
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I didn't so much mind the teasing, but the fact that no
one would come along when I wentto check out haunted locations
was discouraging. Nevertheless, when I was 16, I
decided to go by bus the nearby town where the supposedly
haunted house was. I know I'm repeating myself, but
I must stress that at heart, I didn't believe in ghosts.
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I've always been a skeptic, but I did enjoy scouting out creepy
abandoned locations and a part of me always wanted to find
evidence of the supernatural. I guess these days people call
it urban exploration. It was a blend of that in half
hearted ghost hunting. Anyway, this would be my first
expedition outside of my immediate area.
After half an hour, the bus arrived and I got out.
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I didn't bother asking for any directions.
I knew the name of the street and the house was on.
Since I'd heard the story 100 times, It was at the end of
Birchwood Lane. Besides, I didn't feel like
embarrassing myself by asking anyone where the town's haunted
house was. After wandering on the core of
the town, what you'd call downtown, where the place not so
small and sparsely populated, I saw a street sign marked
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Birchwood Lane. Following it, I made my way
through a few blocks of modern houses, then some older
buildings, and eventually the town thinned out entirely and I
found myself walking into the woods.
At the edge of the woods with the was the road, which had been
paved up to this point, gave wayto a gravel trail.
I sighed and press onward. I brought a flashlight with me,
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but as the sun had not quite gone down, I didn't need it yet.
As I continued. The path got more and more
uneven, and the sinking sun was increasingly thick.
Foliage above me shrouded the narrow trail in darkness.
Before I got the light out, however, the trees thinned out
again and I saw before me a large, dilapidated 2 story
house. By this time, the day was
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nothing more than a fading orange glow on the horizon, and
the mansion was basically a silhouette.
I'll admit I was a bit apprehensive at this point, but
it was far too late to turn back.
I walked across the overgrown lawn, which was covered not only
in tall grass, but also shrubs and a few young trees.
As I got closer to the house, I could see it more clearly.
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There was a single door hanging from its hinges in the middle of
the facade. The remains of what was once a
front porch lay rotting beneath it.
Above the door, a small awning bent dangerously downward,
looking as if it could give way at any moment.
Only one of the pillars designedto support it still.
Stood the exterior of the house.Barely.
Had any paint left on it, and what little still remained was
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chipped and cracked. Most of the windows were
shattered. The only one had been boarded
up. The house looked old, to be
sure, though it didn't look likehe'd been abandoned for 200
years. If that had been the case, it
probably wouldn't have been remained standing so intact.
I reasoned that someone must have kept the building in shape
for a while after the old woman had died, and only fell into
disrepair sometime afterward. As I came to the door and
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climbed up over the remains of the front porch, I felt a chill
run down my spine. I felt fear before, but this was
different. It was more than fear.
It was a feeling of being unwelcome, of not belonging.
I dismissed it as paranoia and gave the battered wooden door a
push. It was partially open already,
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but the wood of the door frame was warped for it to be swing
freely. I pushed it again, harder and
heard a loud crack as the rustedhinges broke apart.
The whole door lurched and then fell outwards.
I had to jump out of the way as it nearly fell on me.
I dusted myself off and clambered inside.
The sunlight was now gone entirely and I was extremely
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wary of tripping over old furniture or holes in the floor.
I switched on my flashlight and swept the beam over my
surroundings. I was in some sort of large
hallway that branched off in several directions.
At the end was a staircase. I walked along the corridor and
looked into each adjacent room as I went.
It was hard to tell what any of these.
Rooms are supposed. To be each was just a mess of
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exposed wooden beams, old trash,and pieces of the walls falling
onto the floors in the pervasivesmell of mildew.
A few books, ruined beyond recognition, lay upon a shelf in
one room. There were several broken jars
on the floor. I made my way slowly to the
staircase and began to climb it.I was nervous as the stairs were
old and rotted and creaked loudly under my weight.
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Carefully, I got up to the top and looked around.
The 2nd floor was much like the first, except that it was even
more uneven. This did little to comfort me as
I knew that the floor could giveway under my feet and send me
toppling down 9 feet to the lower floor and a pile of
debris. But what can I say, I was a
dumb, fearless kid. To me, giving up and going home
seemed worse than risking my ownneck.
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It's funny how teens think sometimes.
As I explored, I came upon a bathroom and it looked so dated.
That may sound weird, especiallysince the whole house was pretty
ancient, but I'd just seen the old fashioned pipes.
The archaic toilets in the bathtub on little ornate legs
just seemed so quaint. I was a bit confused when I
looked into the bathtub and found dark reddish stains.
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While the first thing that popped into my head was the
phrase bloodbath, I laughed whenI realized that they were
probably just rust stains. The next room I entered was
truly unnerving. I recognized it almost
immediately as the nursery from the story.
There were two small beds in a small cot.
For some reason the child size bed were made-up with moldy moth
eaten blankets tucked neatly allaround them and turned down
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partly at the top. I guess the last caretaker of
the house and just left them like that.
But it seemed so eerie to me. It was almost as if someone had
just prepared the beds for the kids a few hours ago.
The cop, by contrast, was completely bare.
Now, if this story is making me sound brave so far, please
realize that I really wasn't. I'll admit that I was terrified.
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The feeling of being unwanted hadn't left me.
If anything, that had grown as Iexplored the house.
As I got further from the door, my heart began pounding harder
and harder. But as I said, I was determined
not to be a chicken out and leave.
I steady myself and fought the urge to run.
In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have.
There wasn't much more of an interest upstairs as the other
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bedrooms were pretty much empty.The furniture had mostly been
removed long ago, and I spent about another 20 minutes
upstairs before heading back to the creaky old staircase and
carefully making my way back down.
I realized that I hadn't yet seen all the rooms on the ground
floor, as I have been eager to look for the nursery upstairs.
I really felt like I needed to leave, but that stubborn part of
my mind stopped me. I made my way through a few
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small, nondescript chambers without finding much.
But then, in one of the last unexplored rooms, I saw her
look. This is still hard for me to
think about, much less type out.The memory is so vivid.
I spent the last six years trying to forget what I saw that
night, and now I'm recalling it and the image hasn't faded at
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all from my mind. Fuck.
All right, I'll do my best. I came around a corner into a
new room, and as my flashlight beam swept across the wall, I
saw her face. The dead grandmother's face.
I swear to you it was only therefor a split second, but it was
so clear I know I didn't imagineit.
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Her skin was molted Gray, blackened in some patches.
Wrinkles and cracks covered every inch of exposed flesh.
Her eyes bulged out, but they were pure white, as if covered
in a thin film. Her lower jaw hung slack, but
not in a way I'd ever seen before.
It was as if her jaw was dislocated or outright broken.
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A few small, jagged teeth sat around her gaming ma and a
swollen tongue was visible between them.
Her white hair clung to her scalp and patches matted and
stained. She wore an expression that I
can only describe as desperation, almost as if she
was pleading for someone or something to save her from her
awful fate. And I really only got a good
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look at her face. But I also glimpsed her upper
body, and while I can't be sure,I think she was clutching
something in her wisened hands. A bundle.
It was about the size of a smallchild.
As soon as I saw her, I screamed.
I screamed louder than I ever had before or since, come to
think of it. You know that feeling of pure,
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absolute, all-encompassing terror?
Fear so powerful that it numbs you while at the same time
making you hyper aware of everything around you?
Some of you will know what I'm talking about.
I dropped my flashlight and ran.I ran through the house, now
completely dark without my flashlight.
I tripped and hit a couple of door frames, but remarkably, I
seem to remember the way out. Even in my state of total panic,
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because I was outside in about 10 seconds.
I just kept on running, now withthe moonlight to aid me.
I'm not sure exactly when I stopped screaming, but by the
time I saw the outskirts of the town a little while later, I was
merely sobbing. I ran to the first house that
had lights on and pounded it on the door.
A bewildered man opened the doorand I ran inside, nearly
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collapsing on the ground from exhaustion after running so far.
My mad dash for town had left mewith more than a few scratches
and bruises. When I calmed down enough to
speak, I told the man I needed to use his phone.
He still didn't really know whatwas going on, but he led me to
the telephone in his kitchen. I'll skip the details.
I got a ride home with my father.
Despite his repeated questions, it took me a few weeks to tell
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him what had happened. He was pretty.
Upset that I had broken into an abandoned house and to this day
he doesn't believe me that I really saw Old Nan.
Whatever, I wouldn't have believed it either.
It was months before I could geta full night's sleep again.
And even today I have nightmaresabout that dread, pitiful face
staring out of the darkness at me.
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And though she made no sound when I saw her that first night
in my dreams, she screams and wails.
They say that memories of important or traumatic events
are far more vivid than memoriesof mundane events.
I guess that's true. I'll remember that face until
the day I die. I don't blame you if you don't
believe me. But I'm not the only one who's
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seen her. There are a handful of other
unlucky people have gone into her house at night.
I heard a rumor that someone even snapped a picture, which is
online somewhere. I don't know about that since I
never searched for it. I never want to see old man
again. So I have a story for you that
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you ex people might can explain.Be me 2018 get diagnosed with
diabetes at age 30 because fat starting healthy and go hiking
2019 lost some weight. Wife supports me.
Hiking is our new hobby. Invite friends often to hike as
a new activity. Show them all the good spots.
We discovered this one time in November.
We drink the night before and itgets much later into the night
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than we planned. Good times all around.
Next day we are all kind of hungover so we sleep in and
start hiking way too late. It's already getting dark on the
way there. No problem, been there once
before. I'll find the way.
We wanted to hike in this ravine.
It's pretty cool, has a waterfall which is awesome, but
the stone path is slippery, mossy and wet.
It's kind of remote and unknown too, so all around untouched
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nature. But we definitely need the torch
lights. In before not a Skinwalker
story, the things that happened are not even that exciting, but
it was kind of unnerving at the time.
So we walked through the forest that leads into the ravine when
a fog raises up and makes it hard to see.
Not spooked yet, it's just really dense fog.
When we go inside the ravine, weadmire the natural formations of
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rock, lots of mushrooms and in general, like in the nature, the
fog makes it nice to run pictures.
Too then friend A. Asks if we heard that, confused
glances. No, no one heard anything.
Shrugs it off. Probably some animal.
Some time passes and we make good time getting down to the
deepest point. Then Friend B thought it'd be
funny to start climbing into oneof the small caves where some
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kind of wooden box was lane, joking that it might be a drug
stash. While climbing, the idiot drops
his phone, so now he really has to go down there to get it.
We waited around for him to makehis way into the narrow cave,
kind of worried he'd get stuck. The box, Surprise surprise, was
not a drug stash, just an empty box.
He fiddles a. While around in piles of dried
leaves finally finds his phone suddenly says what are those
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drums? None of us up here can hear any
drums. I make some minds of Maria jokes
that now the goblins will come eat them drums, drums in the
deep, we can knock it out. I keep quoting because I'm just
that funny. He gets started to insist.
No way not I'm serious, I'm hearing drums.
Friend A now chimes in and confirms that he believes what
he heard earlier sounded like drums too.
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Friend B is still calm, just confused, and makes his way back
up, pressing his back into the rock to get out.
The last few minutes we pull himup, all agree that this was a
stupid thing to do. You still hearing drums?
I ask him. Faint.
He replies. Eyebrows are raised like down
there, No, I think. From there he points in the
direction we are heading. Anyways, at this point I'm
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thinking that A&B are making this shit up because it's dark
and spooky. Wifey is getting nervous by all
this talk. She doesn't like Spooks at all.
Wants us to stop talking about it.
We continue on our way. 15 minutes or so later.
Goosebumps. Now I can hear the drums.
They sound like they are some way ahead, clear as day, but
they don't sound like any drum I've heard so far.
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Hard to describe the sound. Kind of changed pitch.
Now I ask if the others can hearthe drums, Empty looks from
them. Wife gets really pissed.
I tell her not to worry, it's probably some hippie smoking in
a circle. Don't really believe that
myself. It's November and freezing and
she doesn't buy it either. We continue walking.
We still have like an hour of walking ahead before reaching
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the halfway point. Finally all of us are hearing
the drums, including wife, who doesn't find this trip enjoyable
at all. Now drums are getting louder,
sounding like they're around in the corner.
Then they stop. Friend A suddenly goes off the
path, going to the spot where the drums seem to come from.
Last suddenly exclaims. What the fuck?
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We go after him and find a rock.No one around, just a rock.
Confused faces. The distance is kind of correct
to where we heard the drums to the rock is smeared with the
yellow powder. Then we look closer and see what
friend day is on about. It has been carved with all
kinds of shit. No idea what it means.
Pick related. It's the rock.
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The rock has a crevice that seems to go all the way down.
Frende thinks that the yellow stuff is sulfur.
Cliche much? We make the pictures and go back
to the trail, Make the rest of the journey without much
talking. All of us kind of nervous.
Get back to the car without any trouble.
No further events whatsoever. Wife is very happy.
Once sitting in the car, we Google the words as soon as we
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get home. No results today.
Wife says, remember those drums?That was creepy.
Remember those events and decideto post it on ecstasy if you
have any ideas. Hello all.
Well, I've had a fair amount of real paranormal experiences in
my lifetime and I'd figure I'd post a few here.
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Everything from growing up in a haunted house to visiting the
most haunted spot on earth, Pavalgia.
For my first story, I will sharemy experience on the island of
Pavalgia along with my own personal pictures.
This place had a weird impact onme and hence I adopted the name
as my own online persona. Hopefully you all enjoy and
maybe it will even inspire someone to create an effect off
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my story. The History Pavalgia is one of
the most haunted places in the world and for good reason.
This small island is the lagoonsof Venice once had its own
government until it was destroyed by war.
It's not part of the sightseeingtour, but you won't be setting
foot on it. Visitors are not permitted.
When the bubonic plague swept across Europe, the number of
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dead and dying in the streets became unbearable.
In Venice, the solution came in the form of pavalgia.
Bodies were hauled to the islandand dumped into large body pits,
somewhat burned, but it became worse.
The living victims were taken tothe island and disposed into
pits of rotting corpses, left todie or burned as they painfully
died of the Black Plague. It is said that part of the
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islands core consists of a layerof human remains and that often
fishermen avoid the area becausethey may pull up body parts.
The war and the plague would seem sufficient because for
ghosts to inhabit this horrible island, and they reportedly did,
but a new population was soon tobe added.
A hospital was built on the island and still stands today,
although it is no longer in use.The patients often reported
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seeing people in their rooms andhearing whispers.
One particularly cruel Dr. watched his patients succumb to
the madness and took an interestin their delusions.
He began to experiment with the human mind, physically with his
studies of the brain itself, andmentally as he sent the patients
to an observation building wherethey would be subjected to
further torture. The complex also contains a
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haunted oven room and a morgue. Eventually, the doctors began to
see the spirits himself and jumped or was thrown from the
bell tower to his death. Rumor has it he is now bricked
up in that same tower. Some say you can still hear the
bell ringing late at night. You would think skeptics and
believers alike would learn their lesson about Pavelgia.
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Whether or not it is a place of evil is unknown, but it
certainly does have a history oftragedy.
And yet it is to be used again. If you search hard enough, you
will find plans for an educational center to be
constructed on the island for Taurus.
They want to bring families to the island built on restless
corpses. It's a horror movie waiting to
happen. My tale.
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I have always had an interest inthe paranormal and unexplained
phenomena. It goes back to my youth where I
had the disturbing experience ofbeing haunted from approximately
ages 5 to 16, but that is a different story.
I first heard of this accursed island while I was watching
television. The island immediately caught my
attention as being an interesting story.
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After that I didn't research or even think much about it.
A few years later I joined the US Army and my first duty
station was to be in Vincenza, Italy.
Of course I was excited. Not many people that were my age
get to travel to Italy, let alone live there for three
years. After about a year of living in
Italy, I remember the show I hadseen back in the States and I
happened to be living only 20 minutes away from Venice.
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I gathered a few brave souls from my units and told them the
tale of the island and a few more ghost stories that had
happened to me in my lifetime. I sparked their interest in the
mystique of ghostly put phenomena and eventually managed
to convince them to tag along with me on a weekend trip to
Venice. There was five of us set to go,
my girlfriend at the time, Anya,Roger, Rich Spoon, Klein and
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myself. We came equipped with cameras,
watches, cell phones and money. Anya and myself boarded the
train and we're on our way to Venice.
Olivera and the others would meet up with us in Venice at a
later time. When we arrived, Anya gas at the
sheer beauty of the city on water.
We walked out on the train station and wandered a few
blocks over to a quaint little hotel.
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We purchased a room for the weekend and went upstairs to
drop off our luggage. Picture the first building you
see when you exit the train station in Venice.
It was under construction at thetime.
We then set out to explore this marvelous city.
We hopped on the nearest boat bus.
The city streets are water, so the buses there had small Piers
all around the city like our busstops and rode it to the end of
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the line. We got off the bus at the end of
the line and walked towards the majestic San Marco Square.
There we gaze up at the beautiful building to see
lifestyles. Marble statues of horses on an
upper balcony. Above the balcony, the statues
of countless Saints peered over the crowds of people below.
We entered the church and saw a breathtaking array of scenes and
images from the Bible adorning the walls in gold.
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After walking out of the church,my cell phone began to ring.
It was Oliver. He and the others had arrived in
Venice, so I told them what hotel we were staying at and
agreed to meet them there. After another trip on the bus,
Anya and I met up with a friendsof the hotel.
We stopped at a local trattoria and feasted on a few paninis.
After dinner we hit up a few local clubs and parted the night
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away. The next morning we all awoke
groggy from the night before andheaded out for a quick
breakfast. We then spent the rest of the
day sightseeing until late afternoon.
While we were at dinner I started discussing pavalgia and
everyone got hyped about it and they all wanted to travel out
there right away. Being the investigative person I
am, I decided to interview a fewof the Venice locals and see
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what they could tell me about the island.
I quickly found out that the Italians and Americans
approached the paranormal in very different manners.
If an American neighborhood has a haunted house, every teenager
and some adults will head out there at one point or another
for a few cheap thrills. Not the Italians.
If a place is haunted, they stayaway.
The Venice government even went so far as to make the island
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forbidden and no one is allowed out there.
The Carabini Italian police evenpatrol the island during the
day, but the second nightfall hits, they leave.
And for good reason. The Valgia is no haunted house.
It is a dark, evil place where hundreds of thousands of people
were tortured, maimed and killedin unimaginably horrible ways.
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After attempting to interview several locals, I found barely
anyone who would talk about it and most simply said stay away,
and I interviewed our hotel manager at the front desk.
Excuse me? I said to him.
My friends all stood nearby. The manager quickly turned
towards us and put on his typical salesman smile.
How can I help you? He replied in a thick Italian
accent. I was wondering if you could
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tell us anything about the island of Pavalgia.
His expression immediately changed to a scared look.
The hotel maintenance man who was working nearby abruptly
looked up and walked away in an almost frightened manner.
There is plenty of nice things to see in Venice.
The manager said, trying to compose himself.
He nervously pulled out a map ofVenice and started pointing out
majestic churches for us to visit.
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I interrupted him while he was telling me the history of one of
the local churches. We've seen all that already,
replied. We want to go out to Pavalgia
now, there's nothing out there. He said in a very quick, nervous
manner. His smile once again faded and
an almost angry look appeared onhis face.
I know that. I said.
But you should not ask about these things.
He interrupted. He then stormed out of the room
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in a nervous and upset manner. I looked at my friends and they
all look shocked as well. That reaction was weird, I
thought to myself. We exited the hotel and
approached several taxi boat drivers who refused to take us
out there. After about an hour of people
refusing to take us there, we had almost given up hope.
But I wasn't about to give up. I approached the sleaziest taxi
(31:39):
driver I could find and asked him to take us out there.
Fortunately, this taxi driver was Russian and obviously had no
knowledge of the local lore and superstitions.
He agreed to take us out there and back for €100.
We excitedly reached into our pockets and chipped in for the
cost. Spore ran over to the local
store and picked up a bottle of wine for the trip out there.
(32:00):
We then excitedly entered the cab, popped up with a Veno and
we're off. After about 1/2 an hour boat
ride, the sky turned from a midnight blue to black.
Nightfall had come. We were so excited about getting
the cab driver to take us that we had not realized how late it
was. Then I stood up in the boat and
pointed in the horizon. There it stood in the distance
(32:20):
and dark island full of trees could be seen poking up Above
the tree line we can see the silhouette of the insane asylums
clock tower where the mad doctorwas pushed to his death by
unseen hands. The island of Pavalgia As we
approached in the in the boat. By this time it was almost
completely dark outside. Below, another picture of the
island and the dreaded bell tower.
(32:42):
The closer we got the more the hearts started to pound.
As we approached the dreaded island, all of us stood there in
silence. The eerie silhouettes of the
building stood up before us. In the distance.
A chill crept down everyone's spines.
Who stood there looking at this place.
The silence was broken by my buddy's voice.
Dude, my cell phone just turned off.
And he wasn't lying. As soon as we got closer to the
(33:03):
island, all of our cell phones turned off.
I'm not talking about having no reception.
I'm honestly saying that everyone's phone is off.
It would not turn back on. It was like we passed through an
invisible energy field because all the phones turned off at the
exact same time. By this time we're almost upon
the island. As we pulled it into a narrow
inlet, we noticed a small set ofstairs that we could use to dock
(33:26):
at and walk up to the island. The boat driver pulled up slowly
to the staircase and shut off the boat's motor.
Now I must say I have had some very scary experiences in my
life and I've been to some very bone chilling haunted places,
but Pavalgia Island definitely had an evil feel to it.
Typically when you go to a haunted house, cemetery,
(33:46):
etcetera you get that feeling that someone or something is
watching you and it feels generally uncomfortable.
Bevelgia had more of a we need to get the hell out of here
right now feel to it. But since we are so determined
to check this place out, we put all those feelings aside and
jumped off the island to explore.
By this time our boat driver, who remind you has no knowledge
(34:07):
or experience with this place, was freaking out beyond control.
He kept telling Hurry. We leave soon, OK?
Towards us. As if being on an incredibly
haunted island in the middle of nowhere isn't enough, we had to
now also worry about this guy taking off on a suddenly.
Remember, none of our cell phones can even turn on at this
point, so I suggested to the rest of our party that one or
(34:28):
all of us stay close to the boatin case this guy tries to leave.
The island was very black. The only light source was the
full moon above us in the occasional flash of one of us
snapping pictures. Three of us had cameras and we
were snapping away. The island was eerily silent.
No birds, no crickets, no animals, nothing.
It was almost surreal. The boat driver had a flow light
(34:50):
on the front of his boat that hewas frantically shining all over
the buildings. You could tell he was extremely
scared. We walked up to the doorway of
the main building and took a fewpictures.
The flash illuminated a huge room that had debris all over
the floors. We wandered around the front of
the buildings, snapping pictureslike Taurus for about 10
minutes. Somebody suggested that we go
inside the buildings, but the doors and windows had what
(35:12):
looked like a lockdown mechanismon them, so we decided against
it. We continued taking pictures of
the building in the ominous belltower.
And I'm not even going to try todo a fake scream scream, but a
scream happens. Ah, and then the most terrifying
scream I could ever hear. My life Pierce through the
sounds like a knife. All of us stopped dead in our
tracks. It took us a second to
(35:33):
comprehend what we had just heard.
We all looked at each other stunned.
Before we could even talk about what we had just heard, the
entire island erupted in screams.
Our boat driver was freaking outbeyond control.
We all frantically jumped on board for the boat.
The driver could not get the boat started right away and
we're all freaking out. Finally, the engine started and
we quickly pulled away from the island.
(35:54):
The screams are still continuing.
It sounded like they were all around us.
Then as we were pulling away from the island, the bell
started tolling in the distance.This freaked us out even more
because the bell is no longer inthe tower.
It was removed after the island closed down.
Once we got away from the island, mysteriously all of our
cell phones turned back on. We excitedly talked among
ourselves on the boat ride home about what we had just
(36:16):
experienced. The second we got back to our
homes in Vincenza, we rushed to get our photographs developed in
to tell everyone our story. We were taking pictures just to
show off the island to our friends, but we caught something
else in one of the photos. Once I examined the photos, I
noticed that we had captured a ghost on camera.
Not an orb or a reflecting pieceof dust, but the actual
(36:37):
silhouette of a man who was not standing there when we took that
photo. I took the picture to three
different professional photographers and they cannot
explain it. You can see through the guy.
See if you can spot it in the second photo of this blog.
Anyways, after we left the island, some of the people we
went with we're still having weird things happen to them
while they were at home, like something had followed a SPAC.
(36:59):
Some of them just felt uneasy all the time and some were
having insane nightmares and others kept reporting hearing
dripping noises in their houses.When they investigated, there
were no drips or leaks anywhere,and this happened to more than
one person in more than one house on the same night.
Overall, I think Pavalgia goes beyond the realms of haunted and
there's true evil on the island.Too bad we were only there for
(37:21):
about 20 minutes. I would definitely love to go
back but a bit more prepared next time.
We had no flashlights, equipment, etc, only cameras
with us. It is one of my life goals to
get back out there and investigate further.
I have a lot more pictures but Icould not find them this
evening. All right so forgive my
(37:42):
formatting, I don't really post a 4 Chan a whole lot, I usually
just lurk X. But since the holidays I've been
able to hear more stories from my dad so I think you'll might
enjoy. The first couple are from my
grandpa. I'd heard stories about my
grandpa ever since I was a kid. He was my dad's dad and had
experienced a lot in life and this in turn generated some of
the most amazing stories I'd ever heard in my childhood.
(38:04):
After the Korean War, he became a law enforcement officer in
Lubbock, TX in the late 50s, being the first Hispanic to be
employed in the Texas Civil Service System there and then
from 1960 to 1967, he served as a Texas Border Patrol Agent,
becoming one of the first of five Hispanics to be employed by
the agency up to that time. He later worked for the US
(38:26):
Customs Agency Service in the DEA in the 70s.
My dad always told me some amazing stories, and not all of
them fit here and some are not for me to share.
But he also has two that, although did not happen to him,
have been told to my dad, who'd later told them to me in pretty
good detail. So the next two stories take
place between 1960 and 1967. My dad's family was living in
(38:50):
the southwest Texas town of Eagle Pass, which is a border
town that borders the Mexican city of Piedras.
My grandpa was doing Border Patrol work there and in the
nearby border towns that are scattered along the Rio Grande
River. The sand trap.
Now before I get into this firststory, I have to explain what a
sand trap is. It's not necessarily a trap
exactly. There's some spots along the Rio
(39:12):
Grande that are low enough to cross over without much effort.
These areas are patrolled but can't be monitored 24/7,
especially back then, so sometimes immigrants pass
through without detection. In places where the brush wasn't
too thick, they would throw downlayers of sand and smooth it
out. This allowed them to monitor and
count footprints and track who or how many people were crossing
(39:33):
the river and into the US. My grandpa worked the morning
shift and arrived to the stationto supposedly catch up on
paperwork and get some coffee. That's where he found the late
night officer who all referred to as Mr. L at the station back
from his post earlier than he should have.
He was pale and looking very distraught.
Grandpa asked Mr. L what his deal was and was told the
(39:55):
following story. Mr. L had been hearing rumors of
some creepy post out in Del Rio,a town about an hour north of
Eagle Pass Essentially, there was a low point in the river
where immigrants would cross andenter private ranch land.
Multiple BP agents would be sentto check the sand trap there to
see if anything was turning up, but they never got any
footprints. They needed someone out there to
(40:16):
monitor it more closely. However, nobody wanted to stay
after dusk. The area was rumored to be
unsettling and quite possibly haunted.
Mr. L thought that was a crock of shit.
My dad describes Mr. L as a verytall man, shaved head and very
tough. The kind of person that doesn't
take any bullshit. He decided that he would go out
(40:37):
there by himself at night and. Show these other.
Guys that they're just being a bunch of sissies.
He drives to the Del Rio stationand starts getting ready.
A lot of the guys are telling him to not worry about it.
They can just. Check the trap in the morning
for footprints and showed obvious signs of concern.
But of course he brushed it off and was handed a large ring of
keys. The keys were to unlock the
multiple ranch gates in the county as he would be driving
(40:58):
deep into the middle of nowhere and through multiple properties.
He got into service vehicle, made sure he had all the
supplies he needed and took off down the Country Rd. and then
would later turn off to the gateof Ranch Rd.
It took him over an hour of passing through multiple gates
and driving unkempt dirt roads just to get to the spot.
He left in the late afternoon and by the time he arrived at
the post, dusk was just upon him.
(41:21):
He said the spot was loaded withMesquite, Chris Oates and all
sorts of brush. You couldn't walk through the
brush unless you had a Bush hog tractor clear the place out.
There was however, a small warm path leading from the river that
you can get through just barely.This is where the sand trap was
placed since it served as a choke point for any foot
traffic. Of course, the trap has devoid
(41:43):
of any footprints, so he settlesdown and waits for nightfall.
The night was pretty uneventful.The moon was out.
And lit up the area in a dim Ethero light.
The air was still, and despite being out in the middle of
nowhere in Texas, there wasn't many of the usual night sounds
he was accustomed to. He says he would have fallen
asleep, but the lack of sounds kept them on edge.
It made him unnecessarily anxious.
(42:05):
At around 3:00 or 4:00 AM, he was getting the feeling that
maybe this spot wasn't so bad after all and his anxiety was
just from him hearing rumors. Then he heard the faint sound of
footsteps. He put out a cigarette and
tightened his grip on his 357 Magnum sidearm.
The sound of brush being pushed away in footsteps getting
(42:25):
closer. The moon was.
Lower now, and it was very dark,but he could still see the
silhouettes of three men come into view.
They emerge from the brush, but something was off about their
appearance. He thought maybe it was the lack
of light, but their silhouettes were pitch black.
It was dark, but these forms looked like they were darker
than night. Their eyes were glowing, similar
(42:47):
to how a cat's would if he shined a light in their face in
the dark. He called out to them, but they
kept moving, ignoring his commands to freeze.
They walk in single file, slowlyambling along the path.
He points his vehicle spotlight at them and feels his blood run
cold. The forms look like shadows cast
on a wall in a puppet show. He said it looked like someone
(43:09):
was walking in front of his spotlight, but the shadows that
were cast were disembodied and didn't belong to anything.
He stood in awe and fear for probably 45 minutes.
The forms are gone and there wasno longer any sound coming from
the brush. He went down to check the sand
trap and found that it was stillsmooth and it was like nobody
(43:29):
had ever crossed that area. He suddenly felt dreadful and as
though something was watching him.
The feeling wouldn't go away andhe started to feel fearful.
He got in his vehicle and left. He drove straight to Eagle Pass
and since my grandpa came in early, he heard everything from
the now shaken Mr. L. My grandpa didn't have a fun
time as Mr. L didn't bother to lock the numerous ranch gates
(43:50):
behind him. I wish I could say this is the
fun part of the story where my grandpa goes over there to close
it for him and see the spot for himself.
But he had stuff to do and delivered the keys back to the
Del Rio station and let them take care of it.
Mr. L never went back to that area but he's not making fun of
his fellow colleagues stories. Funnily enough not much changed
(44:12):
about him. He wasn't scared of anything and
was a mean guy all around. But whenever Mr. L retold the
story at later times, my dad could tell that it was an event
that really shook him. My grandpa continued to hear
stories about that remote Del Rio post, but over time he heard
less about it as he was given assignments that took him away
from that town. He believes it was haunted and
(44:33):
people said it was an evil place.
And although they never caught anybody in that area in his
seven years as a Border Patrol agent, there surely was
something crossing over. This one is another one of my
grandpa's Border Patrol stories.It's another one that didn't
happen to my grandpa, but was told by his colleague as they
were exchanging stories one morning at the station.
(44:54):
His colleague, who we will call Angus, was another one of those
true Texan no bullshit types. He graduated from Texan ANM
University, was a bona fide cowboy, and I worked as a ranch
hand for years before coming on to the Texas Border Patrol.
He would patrol ranches and other properties near the border
on horseback and would monitor sand traps and look for anything
(45:16):
or anyone suspicious. This one instance took place
near Rio Grande City. He was on a horseback.
In the middle of. Nowhere on a ranch in Stark
County, Texas. The sun was hot and he hadn't
come across anything or anybody for hours.
He was miles away from any surface Rd. much less a County
Road, and he started to get thirsty.
(45:36):
He took a quick break to drink some water and get his horse
hydrated too. He wiped the sweat off his brow
when maybe 500 feet away he saw a figure moving across the
plains at a decent pace. He took a sip out of his canteen
and got his binoculars out. He could see it was an older man
with a cowboy hat riding a horseat a slight trot.
(45:56):
Angus closed his canteen and puthis binoculars back around his
neck. He radioed in the incident and
mounted his horse and took off after the person hoping to
intercept them. He started off with his horse at
a full gallop, kicking up dust behind him.
But Ariel was hilly and he passed a bend and saw that the
rider was now further away than he was before.
Confused but determined, Angus drove his spurs into the side of
(46:19):
his horse to go to into going faster.
They started to gain ground on the other rider.
He disappeared around another bend, but Angus was close
behind. When Angus came around the bend,
he saw that the rider was even further away.
Angus started to get pissed off.Obviously the guy was fucking
with him and he's ready to apprehend him.
He gets his horse to go even faster.
His hat was barely hanging on and everything was shaking and
(46:42):
starting to come loose from their holsters and bags.
He gained on the figure yet again, but after another bend
the figure came even further away.
He had never made his horse go this fast.
It's grunts were harsh and labored.
After each bend the figure got further and further away until
it finally disappeared. For fear of his horse's safety,
(47:02):
he decided to call off the pursuit and radio in that the
suspect had got away. He dismounted and gave his horse
some water. They'd probably travelled about
5 to 10 miles from where they originally spotted the lone
horseback rider. He decided to double back.
He started to notice that the only tracks were his own.
No other tracks but the ones from his horse were found the
whole way back. He told everyone on the McAllen
(47:23):
horseback unit about it and asked them if they ever
experienced anything like it, but not one of them believed
them, said it was just a mirage or he had a heat stroke.
Angus assured them that he knew the signs of a heat stroke and
his limits. He'd been a ranch head for
years, after all. He wouldn't have continued if he
knew he was not well enough to do so.
He let it go for a while, but told my grandpa eventually when
(47:46):
he did some work in Eagle Pass. He never seemed scared about it,
but perplexed. He continued working in that
area of Stark County, but he never experienced anything like
that ever again. You know?
Right guys? That wraps up some paranormal 4
Chan stories. Usually I don't cover paranormal
stories because I don't really like them much, but I really
enjoyed the paranormal stories in this video.
(48:07):
The first one is scary. I really like the last one with
the cowboy kind of theme. I love cowboy stuff and yeah,
super interesting. And don't forget to get your
Cyber Ghosts VPN for $2.03 a month plus four months free.
I mean, there's no better deal than that.
That's 84% off risk free with their 45 day money back
guarantee and stay safe, stay private.
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Check the description for the link.
Cyber ghost VPN is the way to go.
Link below and thank you so muchfor watching.
I appreciate it. This was Snook and I'll see you
next time. Bye.
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